


you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky

by cloudfree



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Domestic, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Season/Series 15, basically what we needed from the finale but did not get, god that was a disaster, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:21:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27640651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudfree/pseuds/cloudfree
Summary: This is what heaven is, waking up next to the one you love and spending endless moments with the family you've made.A look into Castiel's life after the events of "Carry On", when it's all said and done.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 59





	you can't bribe the door on your way to the sky

**Author's Note:**

> The finale broke my heart and I don't mean that in a good way. I was so distraught that we didn't even get a cameo appearance of Cas that I banged this out haphazard and am posting it so I can heal. :(
> 
> Title comes from Harry Styles' "Sign of the Times." Oh, and if anyone wants to go read my alternate ending to Season 15, please feel free to. In my eyes it's canon :) 
> 
> If you can't tell I'm suffering right now. Hope everyone else is doing well.

“Morning, sunshine,” Dean murmurs. 

Castiel is by no means a morning person. He never has been, never on Earth nor Purgatory nor here. Even in the artificial daylight of Heaven’s walls he finds these early hours irritating. The sun is harsh, the chitter of birdsong too grating to his ears. The world has no business being _this_ bright and chirpy mere moments after rousing him from an extremely satisfying slumber.

He curls into his husband’s side even tighter, grumbling, his head tucked away beneath Dean's chin. Angels do not need sleep, much less an archangel like him, but it’s a luxury Castiel has found incredible pleasure in, especially now that there’s another warm body to share it with. “Five more minutes,” he says, throwing an arm around Dean’s chest, and feels the soft press of lips to the crown of his head. 

“Either I get you out of bed or the dog will,” Dean laughs into his hair, heated breath tickling his scalp. As if on cue, they can both hear the insistent scratch of nails against wood, a low, keening whine from just outside the door. “Besides, we gotta head to the Roadhouse soon. Today’s a special day, remember?”  
  
Just because they don't operate on the same principles of time doesn't mean Castiel forgets dates. He also doesn't care _how_ special it might be, because this is Heaven and time runs differently here. They could take as long as they wanted and still be at the Harvelles’ doorstep three hours earlier than they’d been told to be there. Reality is flexible. He mumbles something unintelligible before burying his face in the junction of Dean’s shoulder and neck, reveling in the warm, honeyed laugh it brings out of him. 

“How’s about I get up and make us some coffee, hm?” Dean’s lips are replaced by his fingers, slow and easy, tracing patterns into his hairline. “Then we can head out together.”

Without bothering to answer, Castiel tightens his hold, his legs parting Dean’s, tangling them together into one big messy pile of limbs that Dean has no hope of escaping from. He feels the inevitable sigh of surrender and smiles to himself. 

“You’re an ass,” Dean laughs. 

“You love me for it,” Castiel shoots back, and the fingers in his hair pause. Without opening his eyes he can feel the soft, emerald warmth of Dean’s gaze on him. Now that he is fully powered again, courtesy of Jack pulling him out of the Empty and funneling archangel grace into him, humanity’s emotions come to him in waves. He can feel Dean’s once again again in all their glory, radiating off of him and bathing Castiel in light and contentment. _And love._

In their last few years on Earth he’d forgotten what his favorite soul had looked like. That, he thinks as he blindly draws symbols into Dean’s bare chest, had to have been the worst part of losing his grace, being human for the time that he was.

Never in a million years had Castiel thought this was the way it was going to play out, him and Dean, alive but technically dead but also _happy,_ an ending that they’ve deserved from the start but was never guaranteed.

“Sam’s going to take the kid out for a drive over to Kelly’s later,” Dean murmurs, thoughtful, resuming his ministrations a moment later. “But he’s literally God, so he probably already knows about this whole surprise thing we got planned.”

“Jack will appreciate it nonetheless,” purrs Castiel without preamble, stretching out into Dean's arms. “He’s a good kid.”

The Roadhouse is almost completely unchanged from how it was on Earth, same creaky floorboards, the faded paint on the sign down to a tee. Aside from the new traffic of old faces that come by, once a week or more to share a drink and split hairs - all good natured, of course - over things that happened in their pasts, it’s got the same old feeling etched into its walls. 

It’s home. 

And just like he’d done back home, Sam insists on keeping a calendar, just for the routine of it, and no one dares speak ill because of how happy it makes him, watching the days of an eternity tick by, marking them down as they go and getting to love every passing minute of it without a care in the world. By his count, if they were still on earth then today would be Jack’s fifth birthday, nearly two years after his rise to godhood. It only seems fitting, then, to throw him a giant party in true Winchester fashion.

Everyone they’ve ever known is invited. Kelly. Eileen, Bobby. Jody and the girls. Adam. All those people from the other universes that Jack restored to life, all those years ago, refugees-turned-friends-turned-family. People that have been here for longer than all of that time combined. Even Chuck got an invite, now that he's made it up here himself; it’s clear that there’s no more malice left in him after a lifetime of trying to own up to his mistakes.

“Eileen’s whipping up something nice for him in the Roadhouse kitchen,” Dean continues, oblivious to Castiel’s inner monologue, “sounds like it’s gonna be Angel food cake. Is that kismet or what?” 

The archangel hims contentedly, not really listening as he shimmies upward to press lazy kisses along Dean’s jawline, around the shell of his ear, nibbling at the fleshy lobe. Dean shudders, lies still for a bit and lets him without protest. Castiel feels his heart rate quicken beneath his palms.

Then, when he’s lowered his guard just enough, Dean turns his head so that he can capture Castiel’s mouth with his, flipping them over in a sudden flurry of movement so that he’s on top of them, the length of his body boxing Castiel’s in on all sides, skin against skin. 

Castiel deepens the kiss. Dean’s lips are soft and taste faintly of cherry pie, mingled with the sourness of morning breath. He wrinkles his nose and pulls away, ignoring Dean’s soft growl of protest. His soul is practically blinding, now, almost like the sunlight filtering in through the shutters of their room, flashing intermittent shades of inviting pink and that soft green Castiel has come to greatly prefer.

Outside, Miracle barks twice. Dean shifts his gaze away in the direction of the door and groans. 

“Jack likes nougat,” Castiel says to him, stroking along the stubble of Dean’s cheek with his thumb and bringing his attention back to him. “We could go down to Earth, pick some up for him, sightsee for a bit while we’re at it…”

“Is that even allowed?” 

Jack wouldn’t stop them from visiting their old place - hands off means hands off. “I’m an archangel. I imagine I can bend the rules on occasion.”

And it’s not like Castiel is resurrecting Dean again, putting him back in a new mortal body, one he’s rebuilt atom by atom, cell by cell like he did before…

Just like that, thinking about how deeply they know each other, he’s stiffened beneath the covers. Castiel swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, and Dean dips his head to mouth at the jut of it. “So how would that work?” he asks, letting his breath ghost across the skin. 

“Well, I would -- “ Castiel moans appreciatively as Dean does something incredible with his tongue. “I’d carry your soul across the celestial plane, down to earth. Almost -- almost like a vessel, but not quite.”

He doesn’t miss the way Dean’s eyes sparkle. “So what you’re telling me,” he says as his lips trail around to the side of Castiel’s neck, and he swears he can feel them curve into a smile, “is that I get to be inside you for our little field trip? The whole time?” 

Castiel rolls his eyes. “Don’t be crass, Dean.” But the thought makes him smile anyway. He shifts as Dean’s thigh straddles his legs apart, as those soft fingers ruck his shirt up and come to tweak a nipple between them. 

“Was this your plan all along, angel?” Dean’s sultry voice goes straight down to his core, his pupils blown wide. With his gaze, Castiel follows the path his tongue takes as it flicks out, wetting his lips. “Tempting me like this? And here I thought you were keepin’ me in bed to sleep.” 

“I’ll admit other… _ideas_ have crossed my mind,” whispers Castiel, and snakes his hand around the back of Dean’s neck to reel him in for another kiss. After all, things can wait now. They’ve got all the time in the world.

Pacing around their bedroom door, the dog barks and barks and barks, but is ignored for at least another hour or two until the two of them emerge to start the day, their voices merry in the crisp morning air.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos if you liked! And if you wanna rant about the finale to me in the comments or something, I'm all ears. I have a lot of problems with the way they chose to go about things. 
> 
> Until next time :)


End file.
